Has your partner ever tried to kill you?

My partner tried to kill me in July 2022, we had just moved in alone and ever since we lived together that was a fierce thing, every time he drank he became violent and always subtly threatened me that he was going to kill me, he made sure he would he had done before but that he didn’t do it to me because he loved me and that the day he did it is because he had lost love.

He was a very possessive and extremely jealous person and of course he had his pretty side and the only reason I was with him is that if I asked him for the moon he would go and look for it but he started to get more and more violent and sometimes I would catch him looking at me while I was asleep, at bedtime he would give me a soft face, something he had never done, and he would lightly hang me and take a picture of himself hanging me, and he liked that I hid from him and I ran, he watched me and he chased me everywhere, he even stopped working to watch me at work. He watched me a lot and let him pass so that he could see that I was not hiding anything from him.

Until one night there was a misunderstanding and a friend of mine made a comment that made my boyfriend think that I had been unfaithful to him, so he got upset and told me that we ended up because he didn’t want to be with me anymore and had been drinking tequila for a while. That same night something happened and he took his gun and we were at the neighbor’s house and I knew he was upset and drunk, so we were going back home and I took his gun and I told him that I kept it and told him to go went to sleep and that I was going to sleep too and we’ll talk tomorrow because I knew something was wrong, his attitude was different and it didn’t give me a good feeling so I hid the gun and the big knives I also hid them in another place and whatever I did damage moved it from place.

So at the time I was in the restroom preparing myself to sleep and he came and told me where’s the gun in a mad attitude so I got to tell him because if not then he will get mad, he went to get it and I got out and try to reach my phone but he was looking at me with the gun in his hands he charge it and was coming to the kitchen and my phone was on his side so I stay in the kitchen acting like I didn’t know anything that was going on, he point me with the gun and I told him are you going to kill me? And he Atared at me for a long time and told me don’t play with me because it’s already charged so que pull it back to the side and showed me that there’s was a bullet on it and it was full. He pointed me back with the gun to my chest and I told him not to do it that please do not point me with the gun and then he told me that I wasn’t worth it to go to jail. He leave me alone so I got my phone and went to the room and told him that I was going to sleep but I was really going to call someone I was in dangerous that night. So I was in the room folding his clothes and thinking what I’m going to do.

So for the second time he came but this time running open the door and push me to the bed and start shocking me and keeps asking why I cheat on him I keep telling him to calm down that I didn’t cheat on home that he was hurting me and that I don’t want to see him like that. He let me and went to the kitchen for a knife so I try to scape the house through the back door and because it was to heavy it took me so long and at the same time I was trying to call 911 with the other hand but he came for the third time and when he saw me that I was trying to scape he throws the knife and throws my phone away and me to the floor so I try to scream the loudest that I can but he started to strangle me and keep asking why I did that and why did I cheat on him and I try to tell him that I didn’t do it that let’s talk about this but I lost my breath completely y I saw my life flashing and as if I was going through a tunnel it was getting dark and because I believe in God I asked the Lord to help me not let anything happen to me and when I felt that I was about to die heard my neighbor calling me and calling my name and if I was there and it gives me the energy to stay there and fight for my life. He got distracted and start to let he’s hands so I took advantage that was distracted and then I push him to the side and try to scape from him.

She call 911 and the police came and he hide the gun and told me to forgive him that he was in love with me but it was already late and he went to jail. I honestly at the moment because I was blind And I thought oh he did it because he was drunk I took the charges out and he’s getting out of jail but he really he deserved it to be there. I don’t know what will happen but I hope this story doesn’t continue because I don’t know if the next one will come out alive!

Unfortunately, yes. I have killed a man.

My boyfriend wanted a steam cleaner, and I wanted to pick up a few things from Walmart. It was around 8 pm when I departed. Little did I know, this would be the biggest mistake of my twenty-two years of living.

I arrived at Walmart, safely. I picked up the steam cleaner and a few other silly items (home decor, cleaning supplies, etc.) After checking out, I headed home.

My drive went smoothly, up until I was a block away from home. It was around 9:45 pm at this time, and I was literally just thinking “I almost made it home.” I was traveling around 35–45 mph. The street lights are very dim on this road, and at night, you can rarely see what’s in front of you.

I see a red car parked on the opposite side of the road, but since this road is very scenic (during the day) I really didn’t think much of it. That is when I heard the horrifying thud – “bdunk bdunk bdunk” and I slam on my breaks. As soon as I open the door, I hear the blood curdling screams.

An African American man is running towards my SUV (which I later find out that it’s his son). He rips his tank top off and starts calling me a b*tch and informs me that I just killed his dad. His brother followed. I immediately start screaming. I still couldn’t see his father. I ran up to the red car, and his two sons start to hug me and inform me “ma’am, you didn’t do anything wrong. There was a family altercation, and he wanted to die. We called an ambulance for him to get him some help.” I am still screaming. I come upon his body, sitting in a pool of blood. Within minutes, a police man pulls up. He immideatly starts rendering aid. Minutes later, an ambulance pulls up. I am still in shock. They started to do CPR, before putting his barely alive body in the ambulance. He was life-flighted to a local hospital.

It turns out that his body was laying between two street lights, and from his chest up was laying in my lane – face down – wearing a black sweatshirt – against black pavement.

He told his ex-wife who was at the scene, that he wanted to kill himself because she did not want him back. I wonder why the ex-wife wouldn’t put her car in front of his body. I wonder why the two sons couldn’t seem to move him from my lane.

I wonder why it had to have been me.

The man was pronounced dead upon arrival. I’m twenty-two years old. What could I have done that was so wrong that I deserve to live with this the rest of my life? I will never stop replaying the horrifying sound from running the man’s body over, the blood-curdling shrieks, the image of the man laying in a pool of his own blood.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to live with myself.


I was 17, on a fresh learner’s permit, and driving home with my grandfather in the passenger seat.

Driving down a dirt road, on a sunny day, with at least a mile of visibility in every direction, I collided with the rear half of a pickup truck as we both crossed the same intersection. We were going fast, as everyone did out there. We’re travelling at 55, 60Mph, maybe faster. I was driving by far the smaller of the two vehicles, but timing is everything. When I hit the back of that truck, it spun 90 degrees, dug into the dirt, and flipped. My vehicle experienced a violent bang, spun 180 degrees in the road, and finally skidded to a stop, what seemed like hundreds of feet from the initial collision.

Inside the cab, there’s battery acid all over my arms. I’m in shock, and my grandfather jumps out as soon as we are stationary. I instinctively jump out and follow close behind. He’s a big, older man, but he’s power walking around and over a minefield of debris towards the other vehicle. My heart is racing and my teenage legs struggle to keep up with him.

The truck is not on its wheels. We skip the truck and move towards a figure huddled down in the ditch. He is huddled over someone. We get closer and I’m over taken by the most god-awful noise. Gurgling. I can hear gurgling. His face and chest are covered in blood. There’s dialog, but to this day, I can’t remember a word of it.

I hear another sound, an engine red-lining in the distance. A neighbor has witnessed the collision a half mile away and is racing to provide aid. It’s cold out. All they can do for the man is put a blanket over him.

Twenty-some minutes later, emergency crews arrive. A Sheriff’s Deputy is going to throw the book at me. Reckless driving, speeding, vehicular manslaughter. “Vehicular manslaughter”? I’ve never even heard those words used together at 17! “He better not die”, the deputy tells my grandfather. We eventually go home.

Allow me to interject some logistics here. My grandfather and I are dumbfounded. There were no hills, trees, buildings, or any other obstruction to prevent any of the 4 people involved in the accident from all easily being able to see the other vehicle at least a half-mile away. The fact that NOBODY saw the other vehicle in time to stop the accident means that nobody (least of all the two drivers) was paying very close attention. The police report comes out eventually, and they state that my skid marks (where I slammed on the brakes) were roughly 3 times longer than the other vehicle’s. Still not long enough I guess.

We are discussing all of this at home, and my grandfather thinks he remembers a yield sign at the intersection. We decide to drive back there and look. Sure enough, the other truck drove through a yield sign. Saved by a technicality. I mean REALLY. Everyone is responsible, and a damn yield sign just doesn’t fix that. I’m never ticketed.

It just so happens that when we go back to the scene of the accident, there’s an Accident Scene Investigator there from the Highway Patrol. He informs us the gentleman has died from his injuries.

I went into a very dark depression for about 3 months. I wrote dark poetry. I thought about the accident constantly, especially at first. I never got that damn sound out of my mind. The gurgling again. I was counselled by my school and by my church. I just wanted to die. At one point, I was in the back of a minivan, traveling out of town with some family friends. I just wanted to be done. I quietly unbuckled my seat belt, and squeezed the door handle. I was going to swan dive onto the interstate. Nothing happened. The door latch refused to operate. I assumed they had child safety locks on for their little kids. To my bewilderment, the doors worked just fine when we arrived at our destination. Now this event is a little less remarkable to me all these years later; There are plenty of vehicles that unlock automatically when they are put in park and render doors inoperable while locked. This may very well be what happened. But I still breathe a sigh of relief that my 17-year-old and ill-thought solution to my depression failed to go anywhere.

That incident occurred well over a decade ago. I still think about him.


when I was, when in my early 20s we were in love moved in he was 3yrs younger. It was birthday one Xmas got him job working at printing with my bro in law. On my 21st I went pub with my family it was Sunday I was born Xmas week so printers were really busy. After work d lads all come d pub he got d hump and start arguing with me and my sister and me told him go home when I got home he locked all internal doors. I was drink so grabbed curtains and was going sleep on floor grabbed door handle on our bedroom and it opened so in drunken state on my 21st birthday I shouting in door u fucked up forgotten our bedroom door not locked jumped into bed was just bout sleeping when door and d frame came crashing and smashed half wardrobe. He jumped on top his knee wedged in my breast and he was strangling me I could feel my eyes bulging out my head countnt breath. I thought was a goner he stopped and fell on top me, told him finish d job cause when I get up I won’t stop. He stopped crying I ended up breaking his nose my ring design embedded in his face. I had hand prints bourse embedded on my neck for all Christmas when I asked why he did it he said to teach lesson I was drunk and he could of been anybody I say no I’m your not anybody you’re my boyfriend of 4yrs wasn’t expecting that. He got worse I never had confidence but I’m 46 now just writing this us weird. He turned me of men and if I’m honest some people will be our karma but I’ve paid and then some!

Yes. He was my boyfriend. He was angry that I was out all night with my parents. We were staying with them for awhile since I haven’t seen them in years. When we got home he was furious. He tried to take on my father first. Anyone who knows my father knows that that was a mistake. My father “diffused’ the situation and we all decided to go to bed. We had all been drinking a little that night. Myboyfriend seemed to have calmed down. Not long after going to bed, my boyfriend started getting irate again. He started accusing me of cheating on him. When I said I hadn’t he called me a liar. I looked at him and said ”I’m many things, but I’m not a liar.”

Without warning or any real reason he jumped on me. He had me pinned to the bed and I’m not sure if I was truly pinned or in shock, but I couldn’t move at all. I’m not the kind of girl you can beat easily. Again, if you knew my father, you would understand. I should have been able to get him off of me and incapacitate him easily.

The next thing I knew, his hands were around my throat. He would squeeze until everything would start to go black, then release a little so I could get a little air. He kept repeating this process over and over. All the while whispering in my ear that just because I’m in my parents house, that doesn’t make me safe. He told me I’d be dead before anyone even tried to come up the stairs.

I’m not sure how long this lasted. A few moments… an eternity. All I could think was “don’t pass out. If you pass out, you’re dead.” So I fought against the black with all my might, trying with every ounce of my draining strength to get him off of me, to no avail.

After what seemed like hours, he wasn’t satisfied with the torture I was already enduring, so he decided to threaten to do the same to my 5 year old baby sister. He said he would bring her in and make me watch him kill her. My wits were about gone at this point. I was exhausted and oxygen deprived. But the moment he said that, I snapped back to myself. He made the mistake of releasing my throat just enough for me to get a good gulp of air. I screamed. I screamed with everything I had in me. Before that moment, he had never given me the time to scream. Like I said, his mistake. I hear what sounds like thunder. Turns out, that thunder was my brothers racing up the stairs. He punches my jaw so hard I almost gave into the black, but I forced myself to stay awake. Then he was gone. I heard a lot of shouting. I rolled off the bed and tried to walk to the door to get to my baby sister, but I couldn’t feel my legs. Again, pretty sure it was shock. As I was scooching my way across the floor to my door, my brother Aaron (who is now deceased) rushed in and grabbed me up. He held me so tight. He kept repeating “I’m sorry sissy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know!” It was the first and only time I ever saw him cry.

My father and brothers took care of my boyfriend. My sister was safe. I was alive. All because he made one mistake by threatening my little sister and allowing me a little too much air.



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